A Sinister Game, Page 3

  Besides, he claimed that he only wanted to talk. In a decade, despite all of his talents and darkness, one thing that Victor Black had never done was lie to her. Not once. It was something about his character…. There was a depth to him that went beyond the color of his uniform, and lying was not in it.

  The coin he’d sent her would get her into his private room at the TGB. She had to admire his confidence, arrogant though it was, in expecting her to use it.

  He was right, too.

  She would meet with him. She would hear him out, but not under his terms. If this was going to be a Game in any sense of the word, then she would make her own moves. She would meet with him on safe ground, in neutral territory, and surrounded by her own team members.

  Not in his private room.

  If he wanted to talk to her so badly, he would have to find her himself. At that moment, it was the only means she possessed of throwing the ball back into his court.

  When Victoria neared the door to her personal quarters, she stopped and turned to consider the Game band that rested in its glass case on the cabinet against one wall. It wasn’t customary to wear the bands when Game wasn’t in Play, but it amplified her abilities and made it easier for her to access her powers.

  She might need that edge tonight.

  Besides, knowing him, Black was most likely wearing his.

  Victoria opened the case, extracted the silver cuff-like band, and touched it to her right wrist. The device immediately ensnared her arm, hugging tightly to her flesh as it melded with her body, sending an electric jolt of energy through the pathway of her nerves and into her brain.

  For an instant she saw lightning. She heard crackling.

  And then it was gone. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing the glass case once more.

  She was used to the sensation by now, after all of these years. At this point, donning the device was like brushing her teeth. It was somewhat annoying, but more often than not, necessary.

  With one last glance at her quarters, Victoria stepped through the archway leading into the hall beyond and closed the door behind her.

  Chapter Three

  When the transporter slid shut in front of her, Victoria had the fleeting thought that she should have worn something else. At first, the image of a low-cut dress floated before her mind’s eye. It was hurriedly chased away by the much more practical thought of a downtime uniform.

  She was still dressed in her leather Game jacket and pants and, though she’d secretly always loved the way she looked in them, they were a dead giveaway as to the fact that she was a Team leader.

  It was something she had a feeling she should keep under wraps tonight.

  With a sigh and a building sense of anxiety for the passing time, Victoria waved her hands over the transporter console and the machine shifted, whizzing her back through space to her quarters once more.

  She hurried through the motions of changing, not bothering with anything but the essentials, and when she was finished, she made sure the sleeve of her downtime uniform covered her Game band.

  Moments later, she was back in the transporter and headed toward the TGB.

  I have flutterbies in my stomach, she thought to herself. At least, I think they’re called flutterbies.... It was hard to remember such things. Training had wiped away so much of who she once was. But it makes sense, right? She thought. It’s an insect that flutters by.

  My mind is wandering, came a harder thought. Time to pull it together, Red.

  Focus.

  The transporter doors slid apart, and Victoria stepped out into the marble foyer of the TGB. Servers bustled by, carrying trays filled with colorful concoctions. Gamers lounged by the indoor waterfalls or sat at round tables playing cards.

  This was the main room, and had no particular designation. It was where you met your party before you moved on to the more private, numbered rooms beyond.

  There were five halls that led off of the main room. Each hall had three levels, and each level had approximately twenty rooms. In essence, Gamers had their choice of literally hundreds of different gathering spaces, each unique in its own way. It was important. Game Control did not want Gamers to feel as if they were getting bored with life, because this was all there was for them. There was no going back. Once you were in the Game, you were in the Game forever.

  Victoria stepped out into the foyer and scanned her surroundings. No sign of Black. Not yet, anyway. She thought for a moment and then decided on a room. Winning teams did not normally frequent room 72. It was a darker room, made up to resemble a tavern in some Old World realm, long before the days of transporters and communication devices.

  She was not concerned with Black’s ability to find her. She knew he would.

  What she didn’t want was for one of her own team members to see her speaking with Black. For now, she wanted to find out what was going on with him and deal with it herself. The Red Team wasn’t likely to wander into Room 72 any time soon. Ty preferred the dance clubs and April preferred to be anywhere that Ty was. Simon was the intellectual in the team and would be bent over some leather-backed tome right now in one of the TGB’s many ancient libraries.

  Max was…. Well, Max was probably in a training room. The captain’s idea of having fun was to beat the living hell out of an opponent during a grueling sparring match and then take a hot bath. And then do it again.

  So she should be okay for now.

  After only ten years of being a leader, Victoria was young enough and relatively new enough at the Game that not many people recognized her for who she was as she made her way up the escalators, down the halls, and finally to the room she wanted. With her Game band well hidden beneath the sleeve of her gray jacket, she felt just inconspicuous enough that this almost seemed… fun. It was different for her.

  She’d never gone sneaking off anywhere like this. She’d never before tried to duck under Game Control’s radar. It was definitely a novel experience.

  She suppressed the smile that threatened to curve her pink lips and opened the tavern door to Room 72, stepping into the fire-lit room beyond.

  There were about a dozen round tables made of wood, surrounded with likewise wooden chairs scattered throughout the dimly lit tavern. The fires in the hearths at either end crackled warmly; the temperature in the room was perfect. It felt as if she’d stepped out of a cold winter’s night and into something much more cozy.

  The conversation was subdued. It was mostly men in the tavern, hunched over ceramic plates that were piled high with what looked and smelled like mashed potatoes, gravy, and fresh baked bread.

  Victoria’s stomach instantly began to growl.

  The patrons of the room seemed out of place in this atmosphere, as if they’d stepped back in time and forgotten to wear the proper costumes. They wore downtime clothing of their own world that was obviously not a part of Room 72’s historical atmosphere.

  But they didn’t seem to notice, or if they did, they didn’t care.

  The tankards set before them appeared to be constructed of metal, possibly iron or steel, and were filled with what smelled like beer. At the far end of the room was a bar, more or less, and several stools around the bar were currently occupied by other patrons.

  Victoria stood at the entrance to the room and scanned it for a moment, gaining her bearings. Then she made her way through the subdued crowd to a table more or less in the corner, surrounded by shadows but for the single candle at its center that cast a dancing, flickering light across the table’s scratched wooden surface.

  She pulled out a chair and took a seat.

  It wasn’t long before a woman was at her side to take her order.

  “I’ll have whatever they’re having,” Victoria nodded at the table not too far from hers, where the men were playing a game of chess, eating mashed potatoes, and drinking the stuff that smelled like beer.

  “A full plate and a pint of ale, then. Anything else?”

  Victoria shook her head and
smiled. The woman returned the smile and then glanced around, almost nervously. “Erm… will you be meeting someone else tonight, miss?”

  At that, Victoria honestly didn’t know what to say. “I’m not exactly sure,” she finally replied, a shy shrug accentuating her words.

  The serving woman nodded, her mouth forming an “O” of understanding. “Very well then. I’ll get your ale first.” She sauntered off.

  Victoria was about to lean forward, her elbows on the table, hands beneath her chin, when a pair of hands slid over her eyes from behind.

  “Guess who.”

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but she could smell the liquor on the man’s breath as he whispered across her ear. A familiar, sickening feeling uncoiled in her stomach.

  “I have no idea,” she hissed, “but if you don’t get your hands off of me this instant, you will lose them.”

  It wasn’t exactly an empty threat. She had abilities other leaders didn’t, and the band on her wrist would only amplify them.

  He laughed a rather slippery laugh and removed his hands, coming around the table so that she could get a better look at him.

  She remembered him now. Tall with blonde hair and hazel eyes. His name was Jack Emerald and he was the Green leader.

  He definitely knew who she was as well. He clearly remembered her from the Playing Field – where her team had utterly annihilated his almost a year ago.

  It was also clear that he was toasted.

  He leaned slightly to one side as he slid into the chair opposite hers, a strange twinkle in his light-colored eyes and a half smirk on his lips.

  “Not your usual hangout,” he said. His words were surprisingly crisp for one as drunk as he was.

  “Nope,” she replied.

  “Slumming? I hear you’re up against Black these days. Shouldn’t you be in your private room with your team, celebrating?”

  “Maybe,” she replied.

  Victoria’s body was tense, back straight and mind alert, expecting to whip out with her powers at a moment’s notice.

  What she had not been expecting however, was the pair of gloved hands that slid over Jack’s eyes and the pair of lips that lowered to his ear and whispered, in a slightly accented voice, “Guess who.”

  Jack stiffened and stilled, his breath quieting in his lungs.

  There wasn’t a Gamer on the Field who didn’t recognize that voice.

  Victoria gazed up at Victor Black, her golden eyes like saucers in her face. Something about what he was doing was over the top.

  Scary.

  Everyone in the tavern had gone quiet. Jack Emerald tried to clear his throat. It didn’t work and he tried again. And then, in a voice that squeaked, he said, “I… I’m sorry, sir. Is this your chair?”

  Victoria almost laughed. But she managed to keep the hysterical squeak lodged deep in her throat where it belonged. She shifted in her seat, apprehensively, and Black’s gaze cut to her. Green eyes flashed in the dim light of the tavern. The candle’s flame sent shadows dancing across the sharp angles of his handsome face.

  He smiled a slow and entirely evil smile.

  And then Victor straightened and stepped back, his gloved hands sliding away from Jack’s face. Emerald was up in a flash, jumping from the seat and turning in place so that he could face the Gray leader. It was as if he’d known the devil was at his back and wanted to rectify that as fast as humanly possible.

  “Mr. Black…” he stammered.

  A few patrons in the room laughed. It was an amused murmur, but Victoria could hear the nervous note in it as well.

  “Green leader,” Black said in greeting, as he gracefully stepped around him and took the seat that Jack Emerald had vacated.

  When Emerald continued to stand there as if frozen to the spot, Victor glanced back up at him and cocked his head to one side.

  “You may go now.”

  Jack glanced once at Victoria, opened his mouth as if to say something, and then, thinking better of it, closed it once more. He backed away from the table, and Victoria watched as he weaved out of Room 72, bumping into a man’s chair just before he made it to the door and pushed through to the rest of the TGB beyond.

  * * * *

  He’d been watching of course. He could see everyone in the TGB – and no one could see him. So he knew where she was headed almost before she did.

  Invisibility… had tremendous advantages.

  When Victoria entered Room 72’s ‘tavern,’ Victor watched her take a seat and order a meal. And then he watched another man approach her and place his hands over her eyes.

  The anger and jealousy that instantly spiked inside of Victor was telling and terrible, but he managed to tamp it down. He had grown very good at such things.

  Victor recognized the stranger for who he was: Jack Emerald, Green leader for seventy-five years. He’d been bested a year ago by Victoria on the Field. Did he hold a grudge?

  The lust in the man’s hazel eyes was understandable. But there was anger there, too.

  So he did hold a grudge.

  Victor waited as patiently as he could while the other team leader attempted to make small talk with Victoria. She wasn’t biting, and Black could sense Emerald’s growing agitation.

  Enough.

  Victor materialized behind the man, his gloved hands over the Green leader’s eyes. “Guess who.”

  He heard Victoria gasp, and his gaze cut to her. She was so beautiful sitting there, stunned at his sudden appearance, stunned at what he was doing. He could hear her breath catch. He could almost feel it. It made him want to feel so much more.

  In the space of a few more annoying moments, the Green leader was gone and Victor was seated across from Red, unable to take his eyes off her even as she watched the other man stumble hastily out of the makeshift tavern.

  “How did you do that?”

  He smiled. He knew she hadn’t meant to ask. The words had come forth before she’d been able to stop them. It was one of the things he found so alluring about her. She spoke from the heart and often without thinking. It was that innocence again. It was wrapped around her like a pair of white, downy wings.

  She didn’t know he was capable of invisibility. There was so much she didn’t know. “I can show you, if you like,” he told her.

  She shivered. It was almost imperceptible, and she was hoping he hadn’t noticed. He could tell by the way she glanced quickly at the tabletop and licked her lips.

  “What did you do to my control console?” she asked.

  He laughed. The sound rumbled across the space between them and she looked up sharply. Her lips were parted, her pupils dilated.

  He sensed the energy building within her. He knew she was wearing her Game band. It would give her an edge. Not against him, but all the same she would think so. And it would give her the confidence she needed to defy him.

  He needed her to hear him out.

  He sighed and sat back in the chair, at once aware of the stares of every Gamer in the tavern. He ignored them, focusing on his golden-eyed prize. It wasn’t hard.

  “Not to worry, love. It is easily repaired.”

  Her gaze narrowed. More energy was building. He wondered if the band on her arm was heating. Luckily he wasn’t wearing his, or their proximity would have become uncomfortable at this stage.

  “I only needed to gain your attention,” he explained.

  “And Stygian?”

  “He owed me a favor.”

  “You wanted my attention. You have it. Now what do you want?” she ground out.

  He leaned forward, pulling off his black gloves and placing them on the table. Then he laced his fingers over the wood and fixed her with another hard gaze. She met it head-on.

  “I propose a wager.”

  “Oh?”

  “A Game, Victoria.” He paused for effect. “Between us.”

  * * * *

  Victoria watched the man across from her with the wariness of a mouse watching a very large cat. When he d
idn’t elaborate, she pressed, “What kind of Game?”

  His smile was disarming. He was too handsome. It wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to defeat a team leader as handsome as he was? It shouldn’t be allowed!

  “I’ve always been partial to tag, personally,” he told her. His accent was heavier now. It always became stronger when he spoke to her and her alone.

  She blinked and tried to swallow, but her throat felt dry.

  “And hide and seek,” he continued.

  She ripped her gaze away to stare at the tabletop. Then the wall. Then some poor schmuck at another table who quickly looked in the other direction.

  When she finally returned her gaze to Victor, it was to find he was still watching her as intently as ever.

  She’d collected herself. She wasn’t going to let him have this kind of effect on her. She was a professional, a Game leader. She was the Red Game leader, for crying out loud! She’d bested half of the teams out there…. She could best him, too.

  Right?

  “What exactly did you have in mind, Black?”

  “I won’t mince words, Victoria. You know I want you.”

  Her heart stopped beating. Just for a moment. It hurt a little.

  He went on. “I’ve wanted you for some time. So here’s the deal. A Game. Seven rounds, as per Game regulations. Only this Game is just between you – and me.” He seemed to lean even further in, and she found that she’d stopped breathing altogether.

  “If you can escape me for seven rounds, Victoria – if you can keep from being taken off of the board for that long, I will admit defeat and step down as Gray leader. But if I find you.” He let his words sink in. “And capture you….” His voice trailed off just as his gaze trailed over her lips, her throat, her breasts.

  His green eyes locked on hers again and she felt she would die right there at that table.

  “Then you’ll join me. You’ll give yourself to me for one night.” His smile was the devil’s promise, and his gaze was for her and her alone.